


call me, then i'll call you

by BananaWombat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: I feel like I wrote Thor a little OOC forgive me, I need to get more sleep, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Sam doesn't question Thor's unusual name for some reason??, Sam should've realized Thor's too ripped to be fully human, THUNDERBIRD IS BACK FUCK YEAH, Thor is a Starbucks barista AU, Thor is both a barista and an Avenger, Thor smiles a lot, Tony's Avengers party, actually no she's not, and they get together in the end so she kind of helped, but she's awesome all the same, except with the Starbucks thing of course, mostly canon-compliant, thank you to Anthony Mackie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:04:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaWombat/pseuds/BananaWombat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is definitely sure that he has never seen that barista before. <br/>One, because the guy is kind of hard to miss. <br/>Two, because Sam would one hundred per cent remember if he had. Damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	call me, then i'll call you

Sam is definitely sure that he has never seen that barista before.

One, because the guy is kind of hard to miss.

Two, because Sam would one hundred per cent remember if he had. Damn.

“May I take your order, sir?”

And he’s also British. Sam is so fucked.

“One Venti Americano to go, please,” Sam says. _Shut the fuck up, it’s not that embarrassing to actually say ‘Venti’ instead of ‘medium’,_ he tells his yelling internal voice that has now taken on the approximate sounds of a panic siren.

“Any extras with that?” the guy says, and his smile is really, really, blindingly bright. Sam is really, really, amazingly fucked.

“No, thanks.”

“Name, please?”

“Sam Wilson.”

“Okay, son of - Mr Wilson, just take a seat and I’ll get your drink ready,” he says, and Sam does, because one, he’s been coming to this Starbucks out of convenience ever since it opened and knows how ordering here works, and two, the barista keep smiling at him and it’s melting his brain a little. He might need to sit down out of necessity if the dude keeps at it.

He’s an exceptionally fast barista – or just very eager to please, _shut up, brain –_ because Sam’s drink is ready in under a minute. There’s a lot of smiling again and thanking Sam for choosing Starbucks and whatever, Sam can’t remember most of it, but he spends the rest of his day at the VA aggressively pushing thoughts of long blond hair and biceps like soccer balls to the back of his mind.

* * *

 

The barista is still there the next day.

He visibly perks up when he sees Sam coming through the door, which makes Sam’s chest twist strangely. They actually get the chance to chat, because for once the store isn’t filled to the brim with teenage girls and various sleep-deprived office workers and college students, and Sam learns that his name is Thor – as it states on his badge – and that he doesn’t own a phone. Sam knows the second part because he braced himself and asked for Thor’s number.

The fact that Thor looks genuinely disappointed that he can’t give Sam a number is somewhat consoling.

* * *

 

Thor misses the next day, then comes back the day after that, with a split lip and a wince in his walk. Sam eyes him both warily and concernedly, because while Thor doesn’t strike him as the type of guy to get mixed up in dirty business or any other crazy shit, he’s also not the type who’d get injured easily.

Thor notices him looking and reassures him that it was just clumsiness, but Sam remains skeptical.

* * *

 

He’s not there for the next three days, but then he’s back for almost a week (which definitely makes up for the absence). He actually looks quite excited when Sam walks in, and almost drops something when he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Look!” he says, waving it delightedly in front of Sam’s nose. Sam looks at it. It’s a phone – a sleek, high-tech, cutting-edge Stark phone.

Sam sticks his hand out. “Give it.”

“Huh?”

Sam is too damn impatient to deal with this. This flirting is actually going to have something come of it or so help him. “I’m sick of having to just see you on my morning coffee runs, man. Give me the phone.”

Thor does, and watches as Sam taps at it. After a few moments, Sam shoves it back. “There.”

“What did you - ?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “My number. Call me, then I’ll call you.”

When Sam walks out, Thor’s smile is so bright it could power half of Washington.

* * *

 

Thor does call him, the exact same day, just four hours after Sam saw him at Starbucks. Well, actually, Thor texts him, but it’s so energetic and capitalized that it feels like he can hear Thor’s happy booming voice coming through the screen anyway.

* * *

 

Sam meets Captain America, and his life takes an abrupt turn. Suddenly he’s sheltering two rather exhausted-looking superheroes in his house, then going on the run and getting shot at with them, then flying with his wings – which he thought he’d never see again - shooting down _massive flying ships and sending them crashing into the Potomac oh my god_.

For the next few weeks, he goes to Starbucks exactly one time, and Thor’s not there. He can’t help the crushed feeling, and texts Thor with an apology for not being around more. Thor says that it’s totally fine, but only if he gets to take Sam on a date at some point in the near future.

Sam says yes. Obviously.

* * *

 

Before they can go out on that date, however, some revelations happen.

Steve invites Sam along to Tony Stark’s party – _this is Sam’s life now_ – and Sam says yes, because _holy shit, superhero party_. When he gets there, there’s an amount of booze that Sam is simultaneously surprised and unsurprised by. Vaguely recognizable faces litter the room, and Sam is just about to ask Natasha - the temporary bartender – if he can have another drink, when he spots a familiar blond head above the crowd.

It’s Thor. It’s Thor, standing there in an unfairly attractive red coat, entertaining a group of elderly men with lively-sounding stories and enthusiastic hand gestures.

It’s actually Thor.

“I’m an idiot,” Sam says out loud.

Natasha raises an eyebrow. “You’re actually the least idiotic out of this whole team, Sam, and although it pains me to admit this, that’s including me.”

“I’m an idiot,” Sam repeats, then slaps his forehead with his palm.

Natasha’s brow wrinkles, and she looks between Sam and where his gaze his fixed. “Thor makes you feel like an idiot? I’ll beat him up for you if – “

“No, no, please don’t beat him up,” Sam says hurriedly, and Natasha says, “good. I actually quite like him.”

“It’s just,” Sam says, “he’s my barista.”

Natasha’s brow wrinkle deepens. “Are we talking coffee, or weird kinky – “

“Coffee,” Sam interrupts. “He’s been working as a barista in my local Starbucks for the past – what, I don’t know, month? Two months? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him, oh my god.”

“Why are you so stressed over this?” Natasha scoffs, pouring a shot that Sam hopes is for him. “He took a temporary job because he wants to get more used to ordinary Earth - or Midgard, as he calls it.”

“The god of thunder is a Starbucks barista.” Sam lets out a hysterical laugh. “I have the god of thunder’s phone number.”

“How did you - ? He’s only had that phone for a short amount of – oh. Oh. _Oh._ ” Natasha’s entire face lights up. “Oh, my god, you like him, don’t you?”

“Please don’t.”

“You _like_ like him? You want to go out on a date with him? You want to kiss him and touch those frankly amazing arms and – “

Sam stands up. “I’d say ‘shut up’ right now if you weren’t you.”

Natasha cackles, leans over the counter, and shoves him a little. “Go on. Go and smooch your god, Sammy – “

Sam curses her silently, then takes in a deep breath through his nose, and walks up to Thor. He has to tap the guy on the shoulder to get him to turn around.

Thor’s eyes go comically huge. “Sam, son of Wil!” Sam briefly recalls their first meeting. The beginning of  _son of,_ then quickly changed to  _Mr Wilson._ Sam honestly cannot believe it took him so long to realize. “Why are you here?”

“Why are you – “ Sam gestures in Thor’s direction, “ – you?”

“I – I intended to tell you – “

Sam purses his lips. Thor droops a little. “I sincerely apologize, Sam. I have deceived you and I could not be more sorry for it.”

He looks so miserable that it’s making Sam choke a little, so Sam says, “it’s fine. Well, no, it’s not – you could’ve told me, or whatever – but you never really lied. So. Yeah. And I’m here because of Steve, because we’re friends. And I fly. Sometimes.” Sam scratches the back of his neck. “So you wanna get a drink, or something?” Then he remembers that Natasha is bartending, and says quickly, “actually, no, let’s just – I’ll get us drinks.”

And if he ends up making out with a Norse god in Tony Stark’s amazingly spacious broom closet, then that’s entirely his business.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> It's like one o'clock in the morning so please forgive any spelling/grammar mistakes


End file.
